


Spellbound

by BBobcat808



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: ATEEZ (Band) Are Spellcasters, ATEEZ (Band) Are Witches, Alternate Universe - Magic, Ateez is a family - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Magic, Mild Horror, Multi, Other, Spells & Enchantments, Swearing, gender neutral pronouns (as best I can), spellbound - Freeform, spellcaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27756292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBobcat808/pseuds/BBobcat808
Summary: When you make a not-so-good chance first encounter with Spellcaster Ateez, your lives get flipped upside-down. Will you be able to survive the world of magic and monsters? *Slow updates*
Relationships: ATEEZ Ensemble/Reader, Choi Jongho/Reader, Choi San/Reader, Jeong Yunho/Reader, Jung Wooyoung/Reader, Kang Yeosang/Reader, Kim Hongjoong/Reader, Park Seonghwa/Reader, Song Mingi/Reader
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

The crisp Autumn air is a welcome sensation across your heated skin as you step out of the club. You've had a long, difficult night bartending and you honestly just want to hibernate for the next month and a half. It’s not easy telling drunk, horny customers to “fuck off” politely, and you have even resorted to calling security a few times.

You mumble to yourself, “I really ought to find a new part-time job…” You allow your mind to wander as you walk through the still bustling streets of Itaewon. Despite it being 3am, people are still flooding in and out of clubs and restaurants. You wonder how many will be going to work or school later - hungover - and you muse over the fact that you don’t have classes until Monday. You really do love having free Fridays.

As you reach a deserted section of your walk to your apartment, you see a bright flash from one of the alleys to your left. You figure it's a streetlight bulb popping, which seems to happen a lot around you, so you are about to ignore it. But then it happens again. Only this time there's a grunt and the sound of shuffling feet. As much as you really want to go home and sleep, your curiosity gets the better of you.

Cautiously stepping closer, you can hear a struggle and aggressive, hushed whispers. More flashes threaten to blind you, but you keep going. Pressing your back against the wall, a sudden cry- a noise best described as being somewhere between someone being strangled and a large animal being tortured - erupts from the alley. It pierces your ears and strikes fear into your soul. But you want to know what’s happening. Sucking in a breath, the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” crosses your mind, but you think smugly about the second part of the saying, whispering it as you finally peek around the corner.

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

The scent hits you first- foul, like death. But the sight you’re met with is _not at all_ what you are expecting. It's pure nightmare material.

Before you stand two men and a beast unlike anything that should exist.

The beast rises above the men, a demonic centaur-like creature. A man’s torso is attached to the "horse," fangs glinting dangerously in the low light. He has no legs, but his arms are so long that his fingers scrape the ground. The body of the horse he's attached to has fins protruding from its legs, a bone-like tail swishing irritably behind it, and a gaping mouth exuding clouds of toxic gas. Neither have skin. Instead, decaying, red muscle with black blood coursing through its veins are visible in the lamp light. Two sets of haunting, lifeless eyes complete the nightmarish appearance.

You’re frozen in place, breath falling short as you continue to watch the scene unfold. The taller of the two men holds a worn-out book open in one had as he whisper-yells at the shorter black-haired male who’s hands are thrown out in front of him.

“Hold it in place! I can’t cast if it’s trying to kill me!”

“I’m trying! It’s significantly harder with you distracting me.”

“ _I’m_ distracting you??? Contain it already!”

With that, a glowing rune circle appears below the monster. The light rises up to encompass it and the man with the book begin chanting in a language you think might be Latin. His free hand reaches to the sky and his head falls back. As soon as he finishes, the heavens open up and the city is drenched in rain. You watch in awe and horror as the rain makes contact with the skinless demon. It shrieks in pain as its muscles steam and melt away until finally nothing of the nightmare creature is left. The shorter male releases his invisible hold on the circle, and the light dissipates. The tall one drops his hand and together they stand there panting.

With a renewing sense of courage, you step out from behind the wall.

“What the _hell_ was _that_?”

The two of them turn to you, shock clearly written on their faces. They look surprisingly young to be battling monsters, in your opinion. The tall one has soft features. Big brown eyes - puppy-like almost - and soft blond hair. The other, shorter one, has sharper, more angular features. His nose is what you might describe as fairy-like. The black hair atop his head is messy and threatens to get in his eyes.

There’s something almost familiar about the two young men. Just as you’re about to put your finger on it, you’re snapped out of your thoughts as the black-haired one curses. His fast approach has you stepping back, but you’re too slow. He reaches out and grabs your face.

“Sleep and forget.”

His stern voice is the last thing in your memory as you lose consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

You wake a little after 12pm with a raging headache. You’re in bed, but still fully clothed. You don’t even remember getting home this morning. As you get up, you groan out in pain. You didn’t go drinking did you?

“No… I worked, and then left the club, and then…and then…ARGH! Thinking hurts!” You whine all the way to the bathroom before popping some Tylenol and stripping. You step into the hot shower and your headache finally seems to melt away.

Once you’re clean and dressed you wander to the kitchen, intent on making a sandwich for lunch. As the bread toasts, you make yourself a glass of tea and debate whether or not you want to write your essay today. When the toaster pings, you decide that no, no, you _don’t_ want to write your essay today. Instead, you think some much-needed Disney+ is in order. Focusing back on your sandwich, you open the refrigerator and grab the cheese. As you move for the meat, you look over at the raw steak on your shelf.

Suddenly, a vision flashes across your mind, dark and foul. You remember the shape of _something_ but are unable to see the whole image. Then as quickly as it crosses your mind, it’s gone. You’re left shaking slightly, with a death grip on the cheese. Shaking your head, you finish making your food.

Settling in on the sofa with your sandwich, you flip through your watchlist, eventually settling on _The Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad_. Things are totally fine until the Disney rendition of Sleepy Hollow; the moment the Headless Horseman makes his appearance you go cold. The sight if it stirs and prods at your memory, painfully forcing up the events of last night. Everything hits you full force and for a moment you feel ill. The skinless creature, the glowing circle, the summoned rain, but most importantly, the faces of the two men. And suddenly you remember where you recognize them from.

You shoot off the sofa scrambling for your keys, wallet, and phone. Slipping on your sneakers, you rush out the door, down the stairs and head towards the main street. Once there, you scour your surroundings until your eyes fall upon Café Wonderland, one of the most popular magic themed cafés in Seoul. You turn and make a beeline to the café, pushing inside.

The café’s street level is colorful, decorated with fairy lights and plants. Hanging flowers are laced with playing cards, the ceiling is painted with a starry design, with paper lanterns seemingly floating about. Sofas and cushy looking chairs rest in a lounge area with a bookshelf away from the coffee tables. As you turn to study the menu written in a curly font, someone catches your eye. His blond hair easily stands out. You stride over to him, anger rising at what happened last night. You catch his eye as well and he goes tense. Before you can reach him, he dashes up a pair of stairs.

Instead of returning, the smaller black-haired male takes his place. When he sees you he visibly deflates. Somehow, that pisses you off even more. Sensing your anger, he mutters under his breath, “Shit.” Heat flares in you. Honestly, you’re glad the café is so empty right now.

“How _dare_ you. How _dare_ you try to wipe my memories and then get upset when I show up for answers!” You try to keep your voice low, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as he stares at you with an exasperated expression. “I deserve an apology _and_ an explanation.”

“I’m sorry. . .that your memories didn’t stay gone.” Your jaw drops and you sputter as he continues. “As for an explanation: you shouldn’t have been snooping.”

“You. . .you. . .you horrible, evil. . .you. . .” How has he made you so frustrated that you can’t even speak properly? You give up on being discrete and roar at him, “What the hell is _wrong_ with you???”

As a lightbulb pops overhead, you hear a yelp from the direction of the lounge. Then out of the corner of your eye, you see something small and bright fly out of chair and into the black-haired man’s leg. _Hard_. He grunts in pain and you think he deserves it. He looks down, and his eyes widen. You stand there, with him staring at you, staring at the ring now resting on the floor by his foot.

Lightbulbs have been known to pop once in a while when you lose your temper, but flying projectiles are new. Though you’re still too angry to really care. The black-haired man stares at you for a moment longer before bending down and picking up the ring while muttering something about how he’d been looking for it. When he speaks again, it’s not to you.

“San, close the store and inform the others that we have a. . .guest.” You finally turn to look at the other person in the café with you. He’s taller than the man in front of you but for sure shorter than the puppy-eyed one from before. His eyes are cat-like instead, and his fluffy hair is also a beautiful shiny black. San, as you have now identified him, nods and seems to glide to the door, locking it and flipping the sign to “closed” before disappearing up the stairs in the back as well.

You turn your attention back to the man in front of you. He has been studying you, all while playing with the ring that shot across the room. He finally slips it on his pointer finger and turns, also moving towards the stairs. “Follow me.” And you do.

Halfway up, you mutter, “I don’t even know your name. . .” You glance at the back of his head, watching as he turns to look at you for a moment before looking back up the stairway.

“I’m-”

“HONGJOONG!” You jump at the loud voice. “San said that you got hit by something and that you pissed someone off and-” The one shouting trails off when he looks at you, “Oh. They’re here.”

Hongjoong glances, eyebrow raised, at San who merely shrugs. “Wooyoung, I’m fine. This is. . .” He trails off waiting for you to introduce yourself, so you do. “Y/N.”

“Right, this is Y/N. They might, how do I put this. . .I think they’re an emerging, completely untrained spellcaster. And a powerful one too.” You glance around the upstairs room taking in the new faces, each one just as shocked as the next. Besides San, and newly introduced Wooyoung, who has a mischievous, sexy charm about him. Behind him, you spot the puppy-eyed guy. Next to him is an equally tall male with sandy-brown hair, his angular eyes comically large with surprise. On the other side or the room, sitting at a table are three other men. One, strikingly handsome in a princely way, blond hair slightly frizzy. He stares at you as though he can see right through your skin and into your soul. You continue on with a start. Across from him, is a man who’s darkly handsome - ash-blond hair and striking gaze. Something about him reminds you of the dragon from that one animated movie series and it makes him seem a little bit softer. Beside him, is the last new person in the room. He also has dark chestnut hair and boyish charm, much like Wooyoung, but he seems much. . .wiser. His round face gives you a sense of security and softness, but his muscular outline implies otherwise.

By the time you finish scanning the room, you’ve fully processed Hongjoong’s words. “I’m a _what_?”

Your thought is quickly echoed by both San and Wooyoung as well as the two tall ones. Chaos erupts, questions endlessly voiced, and Hongjoong is very obviously not impressed. “Everyone _shut up_ and _sit down_!” Silence. “We, and Y/N, have a lot of explaining to do. So, have a seat and try not to get to lost.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So. . .what you’re telling me. . .is that magic is _real_? And that the demon centaur thing was _real_? And you _fight_ those _monsters_? And on top of all that, you’re saying that _I_ can use magic too? You’re joking, right?” You stare incredulously at the men around you.

Hongjoong sighs, “You saw it all for yourself. Magic is real. That’s how we protect humanity. And yes, the _Nuckelavee_ was just as real as you, or me, or anyone in this room. Though there are many other types of Nightcrawlers, not just the one you saw. As for you being a caster, it’s only a theory of mine. I need to know more to be certain, which is where my interrogation comes in. I need you to answer truthfully, alright?” He eyes you, and waits for a response. You nod, wanting to leave already. “Good. To ensure that you don’t lie, Yeosang will help us out.” The princely looking man moves to sit next to Hongjoong, across from you. He stares at you.

“We’ll start off easy. Have you ever seen Nightcrawlers before?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen magic before?”

“No.”

“Do strange things happen when you get emotional or lose your temper?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.” You’re startled by how low Yeosang’s voice is when he cuts in. Hongjoong quirks an eyebrow and you huff in annoyance.

“Fine. Sometimes light bulbs pop when I get angry.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Lie.”

“. . .Once a flower vase broke. And that flying ring thing is new too.” Hongjoong looks to Yeosang who nods.

“Alright, moving on. How long have these occurrences happened?”

You have to think for a moment before you answer. “I think I was around 17 when the first bulb popped. It didn’t happen every time, but it’s been getting more frequent. The vase happened about a year ago when my roommate and I got into an argument. They moved out after, thought the place was cursed or something.” Someone snorts from behind you before attempting to cover it with a cough.

Hongjoong sighs. “You’re a late bloomer.”

“They’ll be in danger.” The owner of the new voice walks closer to inspect you. Hongjoong nods in agreement while you stare at the man who spoke. “I’m Seonghwa.” He really is beautiful up close – long, straight nose, and soft pink lips. Gently he grasps your hand and his eyes flash an unnatural shade of green before he releases it once more and turns. “Vitals are completely normal but I didn’t sense any magic in them. However, there was a strange pulse of something in their mind.”

“Well, he did try – and fail – to wipe my memories. He conveniently left that part out.” You glare are Hongjoong. Seonghwa does the same.

“What? It usually works.” You flip him off and heads shake. “Regardless, there are obviously signs of magic and it would be better to keep Y/N here with us.”

You stand up. “Absolutely not. I’ve had enough of you people. I’m leaving.” You move quickly to the stairs intent on getting away. There’s a lot of new information that you need to process. Suddenly you’re pulled back by the wrist and yelp in surprise, preparing to chew out who ever grabbed you. However, as you turn, all courage leaves your system as you look at the group’s strongman. He’s not threatening, but he is _solid_. And his grip on you, while not painful, is _strong_.

“Jongho, let them go. We can’t force them to stay if they don’t want to.” Slowly, his grip loosens as Hongjoong approaches you once more. “Here, take this. It’s an enchanted card. It has my contact info on it, but keep it close because if you’re ever in an emergency, all you have to do is just say my name. I’ll be there.”

You blink at him and nod, tucking the card into your pocket. “I uh. . .thanks? For explaining things and answering my questions, I guess. I have a lot to process. . .”

“I understand. Please be safe.” With that you finally leave.

Seonghwa places a comforting hand on Hongjoong, sensing his distress. “I know you want to be respectful of others, but you should have kept them here. They’re going to be hunted now; if what you say is true and their latent magic is starting to surface. . .”

A sigh escapes Hongjoong as he pulls away, heading for the stairs as well. “I know. I just have to hope they’ll call my name.”

You finally make it home just after 5pm and flop on your bed. You really want to take a nap, but your shift starts soon. Huffing a big sigh in annoyance, you take a quick shower, and stuff some food in your face despite not being very hungry. Slipping on your shoes, you stand in front of the door sifting through your bag. You have no idea what happened to your keys after you got home, but you really need them _right now_ or you’re going to be late. You drop your bag and run around the house like a madman. You look everywhere you think you would have thrown them. If only your brain hadn’t been on overload thanks to all the magic talk from earlier, maybe you could remember where you put your damn keys. But you don’t and you’re getting frustrated.

“Where _the hell_ are my _keys_?” You hear a jingle and turn just in time to watch, wide-eyed, as your keys shoot out from under your bed. You shriek and duck as they fly at you and slam into the wall. “Well, that solves that problem. . .” Picking them up you chuckle slightly. “I could get used to this, except for the fact that it tries to kill people.”

You shiver as you walk down the street and glace at the sky. It’s obviously going to rain but you don’t have an umbrella, so you cross your fingers that you make it to work first. As you stroll along, you find yourself shying away from the growing darkness as much as possible. You doubt anything will happen in such a busy area, but you also really don’t want to risk it.

You’re about five minutes out from the club when the first of the rain falls. You run down the rapidly clearing street and past the line forming at the door. As you walk in past glaring people seeking shelter, one of the bouncers offers you a towel which you gratefully accept. Throwing your stuff in your locker and drying off, you move to finish prepping the bar for the busy night.

About an hour in, your mind starts to feel fuzzy. You figure it’s just mild fatigue from the mentally taxing day and brush it off. As time continues on, though, your situation gets progressively worse. Your depth perception goes, closely followed by slight breathing difficulties. By hour three, you feel like you’re hungover or have a migraine. Honestly, your whole body tingles and you want to cry.

Moving out from behind the bar, you leave your coworker and go in search of your manager, staying away from people as much as possible. Which really isn’t much. You find him in his office and immediately ask to leave while profusely apologizing. He tells you not to worry about it and to go home and sleep. He also tells you that you could have Saturday off. When asking about your cover, he laughs, “One of the newer employees has been asking for more hours.” You nod and thank him and leave to collect your things. Coworkers bid you goodbye and send you off with well-wishes.

As you step outside, you find that the rain has stopped. You resist the urge to purge as a sudden wave of nausea hits you, and you come to the conclusion that despite feeling like death on legs, walking might be a better option than fighting for a taxi. And cheaper too. So, you trudge your way back home.

While walking, you once again find yourself aiming for all the bright spots along your path. Paranoia eats away at your throbbing mind. You swear you’re being watched from the shadows, but don’t see anyone or anything. You walk as fast as you can, trying ineffectively to avoid the other people on the sidewalk. You’re glad it’s still relatively early in the night, not yet 10pm. There are many people still on the streets, even in the usually empty parts of your route. Fewer bad things happen if there are more potential witnesses, right?

You finally make it inside your apartment and make a beeline for the kitchen for toast and water. After eating and drinking, you wander to the bathroom for painkillers and a cool shower. Ever so slowly, you can feel your mind beginning to ease as you sit under the water.

Once you feel like you’re not going to die right away, you step out and wrap yourself in a towel before heading to your room. You find your most comfy pajamas, put them on, and then slip into bed. Retrieving your phone from your nightstand, your hand brushes over the card that Hongjoong gave you.

You flip on a lamp to study it. It’s a very simple yet elegant card. The matte black surface is decorated with striking silver font that curves delicately. You huff and shake your head before moving to set it down but as you turn, your heart drops.

There’s a shadow in your room that shouldn’t be there. It’s tall and gangly and you stare at its constantly moving form as it shifts and changes appearances. Small red eyes bore into your frightened ones. You’re glad you can’t see its mouth because you’re certain there would be fangs. Slowly, you crawl to the other side of your bed, never breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, it lunges and you scream, falling off your bed just as its shadow claws sink into your mattress. In your panicked state two thing race through your mind. How to escape and, “HONGJOONG!” You scream, “HONGJOONG, HELP ME!” You try scrambling to the door just as a flash blinds you. The previously silent shadow hisses loudly. You hear a voice chanting in front of you and hands roughly grab you from behind. You don’t even have time to scream again as you’re pulled backwards into a firm chest and thrown into a whirl of technicolored nothingness.


	4. Chapter 4

You’re hunched on the floor, gut screaming at you as you hurl what little food you consumed today. Tears stream down your face but you’re honestly in too much pain to care about the wooden floor beneath you, now covered in vomit, as you cough. When you finally look away from your mess, a hand holds paper towels out for you while another gently rubs your back. You mumble a quiet “thanks,” to whoever the owner of those hands might be, and sit back on your heels to wipe your eyes and mouth and blow your nose. You vaguely recognize a familiar voice mentioning a mop to clean with before footsteps signal a retreat.

Looking up, you meet the familiar gaze of a concerned Seonghwa. “Just breathe, you’re safe now. Teleportation is rough on first timers, though I will admit, Jongho could have been more gentle with you. You’ll get used to it though.”

“Ugh. . .I don’t think I want to. . .” You repress another wave of nausea at the thought of doing whatever just happened to you all over again. Seonghwa helps you maneuver to a chair. “What. . .what happened? What was that thing in my room? And who’s Jongho again?” You look around the room and make eye contact with the man from the other night – the one with the puppy eyes - now carrying in a mop. Another voice keeps you from staring at his now dark hair ( _wasn’t it lighter before?_ ) as your attention is redirected to a man behind you.

“I’m Jongho.” It’s the one with the muscular build and boyish charm, only now _his_ hair is a striking red. His gaze upon you is dark, calculating, before he breathes out a sigh. He rubs his temples as he stares down at the floor, shoulders slumping in resignation before he answers. “The creature in your room was a _Nalusa Falaya_ , the Long Black Being. It moves through the shadows and can take on the form of a snake. It’s nothing but trouble. Luckily, San and Hongjoong should be finishing up pretty soon.”

Seonghwa nods in agreement as Wooyoung and the other tall man with sandy hair emerge from the stairway. It’s only then you realize that you’re back in the upper level of Café Wonderland. Before you can ask who the new man is, there’s a flash of light and a thud. Hongjoong and San tumble across the floor.

“Watch where you take us!”

“My landing was fine, you’re just too short!”

“I- WHAT? You brat!”

You watch, incredulous, as the two of them struggle to get up, San’s hand firmly landing on Hongjoong’s face as they continue to bicker, right there on the floor where they landed. Eventually, Hongjoong manages to shove San off and stands up while San sits there pouts.

“Well if you hate it so much, then _you_ teleport us next time…”

“Believe me, I _will_.”

Unexpectedly, you find yourself laughing along with Wooyoung and the other two tall males at the sight, and all heads turn to you. Hongjoong kneels in front of you.

“Y/N! Thank goodness you’re alright. Jongho wasn’t too rough, was he? Teleportation is hard on first timers.” You glance wearily over at Seongwha.

“So I’ve been told. . . I’m afraid to ask, but how’s my apartment?”

San’s loud voice makes you jump. “It’s in one piece! And the _Nalusa_ is gone, too!” His dimpled smile is brighter than your future at the moment and Hongjoong just sighs.

“I put up a time-space barrier so he couldn’t burn anything down.”

“Oh, I see. That’s ni-wait. What? _Burn down_? Why _fire_? How is that useful against a _shadow_?”

San giggles at you. “Fire is light. Light destroys shadows.”

“Oh. Right, sorry. That makes sense.” Silence hangs in the air for a moment before Hongjoong stands and turns, speaking again.

“Where is Yeosang? I need to speak with him.”

“I think he’s doing a reading in the backroom downstairs.” The man you haven’t met yet has a voice deeper than you expect. His angular eyes cut to the stairs for a moment before looking back to Hongjoong. “He seemed a bit. . .distressed.” Hongjoong nods and moves towards the stairs. “San follow me. Seonghwa, you too. I can sense you want to examine us.”

You hear an amused exhalation from Seonghwa before you watch as the three of them retreat down the stairs together. Now left alone with Wooyuong, newly re-introduced Jongho, and the two men you don’t yet know. You notice the puppy-eyed one is now sitting at the table and your eyes move to see that your pile of puke is gone and the floor looks good-as-new. After several moments of slightly awkward silence, you speak up.

“I uh. . .I’m sorry.” You look around nervously as four pairs of eyes quizzically find your figure. “For barfing on your floor, I mean. . .” You watch as the sandy haired man quirks an eyebrow, Jongho’s mouth twitches, and Wooyoung is clearly holding back a laugh. The man with the soft brown eyes merely shakes his head.

“No, it’s alright. In fact, it’s completely normal. You should have seen Mingi when he first teleported!” His eyes now hold a mischievous glint as he continues to speak, “He miscalculated his position, stumbled into a wall, threw up on the instructor’s shoe, and then passed out - all in under five minutes.”

“HEY! How could you betray me like that, Yunho? I thought you were my friend.” The poor man’s face turns almost as red as Jongho’s hair as he yells at the newly identified Yunho. Wooyoung howls in laughter and Jongho snorts.

You aren’t sure how much time passes before you see Hongjoong’s head emerge from the stairway closely followed by the other three men. All laughter is cut short by their grim faces. Seonghwa looks as though he wants to say something, but Yeosang beats him to it.

“Y/N. I understand that this world of magic is entirely new to you; however, you are already in much deeper than any of us could have anticipated. I do not know in what sense, the cards can only relay so much, but evil forces are fast approaching and you’re about to be caught in the middle.”

You crease your brows absorbing his words as he stares you down. His dark eyes betray no emotion, so you aren’t sure how he feels about the whole situation. He sighs, and a glint of sympathy crosses his features before speaking again.

“The fact that you have been targeted by a nightcrawler is all the proof any of us need to know that you have magic coursing through you, even if it was dormant until recently. And whether you like it or not, we committed ourselves to protecting and training you the moment you walked through our door.”

A few of the men in the room nod in agreement with Yeosang’s words, others simply look at you with calculating but kind gazes. The one commonality is the mix of determination and sympathy in all of their eyes. You feel as though the bottom has just dropped out of your nice, normal, boring life, and it’s a little hard to concentrate as Hongjoong steps forward to explain their plan of action.

“Under normal circumstances, we would get you in touch with the Council so they could send you to the Academy, but I am wary due to Yeosang’s reading. So, you will stay with us and we will teach you how to control the magic you have. The council will just have to make an exception, and I really don’t anticipate any issues with that, all things considered.”

“The eight of us are already spellbound, so the first thing we must do is spellbind ourselves to you as well. This will allow us to always know where you are and vice versa. It will also allow us to communicate telepathically to some degree. Both of those are vital to keep you safe, as we will always be able sense your situation and it will allow us to teleport to you when you need us, even when you are unable to call out. Spellbinding is also a tool for us to, in a way, share and control each other’s magic. I won’t go into detail on that now, though. I suspect you will start to sense some of it on your own, soon enough.” 

As alarming and undesirable as being bound to eight men who are still basically total strangers sounds to you, being attacked by something even worse than what you have already encountered is absolutely terrifying in comparison. You _really_ don’t want to get killed by some creature you’re afraid to even imagine, and you have no idea what your actual options are.

“When we are done here, you will return to your apartment with me, Yunho, and Yeosang. We will set up barriers and wards as well as create a doorway portal to and from our café for easy access.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

“I know you may disagree with my decision, but I genuinely believe it is the best option we have to protect you.”

As you contemplate his words, you realize he’s probably right. You have no clue about _anything_ in this world of magic and certainly no way to protect yourself from those monsters called Nightcrawlers. Even though you don’t want to admit it, these men have done nothing but save and help you. So, with a huff, you agree. You are not happy about the situation at all, but deep down inside, you are beginning to suspect that there probably _aren’t_ any better options. You’re just going to have to deal with it to stay alive.

“You. . .you’re not going to fight me on this?”

“No, you’re probably right,” you admit ruefully. “I am completely helpless and you guys seem to know what you’re doing. Besides, it’s way too early in the morning and I have no energy left to argue this anyway.” You offer a small smile before standing and stretching while you make peace with your situation. “Alright. What do I have to do?”

After a few minutes of preparation and explaining, the nine of you now stand around a small table with needles in your hands. You stare at the paper in front of you, which is blank except for a circle drawn on it.

“I’m going to be honest. . . When you mentioned this was going to be blood magic, I was expecting a ceremonial knife or something to cut open our palms. . . You know, like in the movies?” The guys stare at you for a moment before Jongho speaks, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“That could be arranged if you want. I have plenty of knives.”

“NO! No, that’s alright. I much prefer a finger prick over possibly losing an appendage.” The room erupts in laughter at your small panic and a voice cuts sharply through the noise.

“Those movies are so dramatic!”

“Ha! You’re one to talk, San. You’re practically an entire theatre by yourself.”

“Oh, Shut it Wooyoung, you’re not much better.”

Your ears catch Seonghwa’s voice over their bickering.

“He is right, though. The movies would have you think you’ve got to bleed yourself dry to accomplish anything. And the way those actors ‘cut’ themselves would leave horrible scars, not that the scripts ever pay that much attention to detail.”

“If you know so much, why don’t you go work in the film business, huh? It’s not like we need you. They have me!” You’re genuinely shocked by Mingi’s boldness.

“Oh, puh-lease. You’d poison us all before you could even diagnose us, Mingi. At least Seonghwa knows how to use his magic for something helpful.” Wooyoung’s side comment causes Mingi to make an unintelligible noise of disagreement, which Yunho snickers at.

“Yeah, something useful - like putting you six feet under?” It’s Wooyoung’s turn to whine in offense at Jonghos’s remark. Before Yeosang decides to chime in with a “Can’t all of us do that?”

“Alright, alright. Enough bickering. We need to focus and get this done.”

A chorus of “Right”s and “Yes sir”s ring out and all you can do is blink at the drastic shift in the men. They all went from half-serious, playful threats to 110% business. Their duality honestly gives you whiplash.

Hongjoong is the first to step forward and prick his thumb, pressing it to the paper.

“I am the North – the one who guides.”

Seonghwa is close behind, he too pricks his thumb.

“I am the South – the sturdy foundation.”

He is quickly followed by the others – San, Yeosang, Wooyoung, Jongho, Yunho, and Mingi.

“I am the East – the one who forges ahead.”

“I am the West – the one who brings balance.”

“I am the North-East – I am certain uncertainty.”

“I am the South-East – I am controlled chaos.”

“I am the South-West – I am change.”

“I am the North-West – I am the bridge of the mind.”

You watch as each declares their direction and marks it in the circle creating a compass of blood. As they begin to chant together, you try to calm your nerves. You’ve already committed after all. With them is the safest place you can be.

“Our minds and souls are one in life

Bodies bound with no price

The vow we pledge to protect shall now extend

Should you accept.”

They watch you as you stare at the needle pressed between your fingers. Looking up at them you meet each of their eyes and suck in a breath. You wince at the pain of the needle piercing your thumb but it fades quickly as you press it to the center of the compass. Your blood is warm against your flesh and you can feel it spreading, marking your identity on the paper.

“I trust you. My life is now yours.”

“With their soul, now we bind

One of nine

Forever entwined.”

Power flares around you and surges through the air. As the room is engulfed in a beautiful, unnatural light you swear you can see white strands of magic shoot out from your thumbprint and connect to the men around you. Suddenly you feel eight new heartbeats somewhere within you and a sense of comfort like none you’ve ever felt before washes over you. You wonder briefly if they can feel your heart as well. Along with their hearts, though, you can feel their magic flowing within them, powerful and warm. And for the first time, you feel your own. It seems smaller in comparison, but it’s burning hot. Just as it starts to become unbearable, your surroundings return to normal and, as though someone flipped a switch, all the magic you could sense is gone.

The eight men look at you and smile warmly. As though they had practiced it a million times, they speak together. “Y/N, welcome to Ateez.”


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of your alarm draws you from deep within your dreamless slumber. You groan and roll out of bed, shutting off the annoying tune. Sighing heavily, you stare at the unused closet door on the far side of your room. Unused; until last night.

Your memory is hazy from after the bonding due to how much energy it seems to have drained from you. Vaguely, you remember walking home with four of Ateez – Hongjoong to bridge your home to their shop, Yunho and Yeosang to cast wards and protective barriers, and Seonghwa insisting on ensuring your well-being. (Something about you being overly susceptible to the draining effect of magic since you are so new to it. Maybe that explains your headaches every time you make something break or call things to you?) You also remember sitting on your bed listening to Hongjoong chanting at your open, empty extra closet, there was light, and then your alarm was going off.

Stretching and seemingly popping your joints back into place, you shuffle out your bedroom door and down the hall, stopping to relieve yourself in the bathroom, before wandering into the kitchen. Before you can get there though, you find yourself staring at limbs flung over your sofa and another pair of legs sticking out from behind the coffee table. Soft snores reach your ears and you move closer to glance over the furniture. Hongjoong is sprawled on your floor and Seonghwa occupies your sofa. You figure the other two must have returned through the portal after it was created.

Looking at the two sleeping me, you honestly can’t help but smile at how small and young they appear when sleeping. Deciding it would be better for them to sleep, you return your focus to the kitchen.

15 minutes later you’re setting the breakfast bar with eggs and bacon before returning to the living room to wake the two men. You shake Hongjoong slightly, he groans and rolls over. His bleary eyes try to process your figure hunched over him before he omits a slurred “good morning” and sits up. You smile at his groggy form and bedhead, leaving to stretch as you move over to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa somehow looks more uncomfortable than Hongjoong on the floor as you shake him awake. He too, groans and frowns at you, trying to process the situation. Slowly sitting up, he runs a hand over his face and looks at the other man across the room before looking back at you. You snort at their drowsy states and move back towards the kitchen without a second glance.

“I made you guys breakfast, might wanna come before it gets cold.” Shuffling and indignant muttering is heard from the other room before their faces appear across the counter as they sit down on the stools. You can tell they’re mentally drooling and for a moment, you wonder if they get enough to eat at home. They look at you and you snort again at their puppy-dog eyes.

“You don’t have to wait for permission, eat. What do you guys want to drink? Milk? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Water?” You watch them shovel the food into their mouths completely ignoring your question. Shaking your head, you decide juice will give them more energy than water and they could definitely use the energy. It also won’t fuel a caffein addiction.

As you set the glasses in front of them Seonghwa looks up at you with concern. “You’re not eating?”

“I ate while I was cooking, so don’t worry, haha! When you’re done put the dishes in the sink for me? I feel gross, so I’m going to go shower.” They nod at you and you depart for a much-needed full body cleanse.

Stepping back into the kitchen, now refreshed, you find your pans, dishes, and utensils all clean and set to dry. Looking out into the living room again you frown at the two men conversing quietly. “You guys didn’t have to wash the dishes for me. I appreciate it, but you’re my guests. You shouldn’t be doing my work.”

They look up at you and smile. “We don’t mind, it was easy.”

“Plus, you cooked us breakfast and let us sleep over without us asking first. It was the least we could do.”

You nod at them before asking, “Why did you sleep over?”

They glance at each other. “Safety precautions,” Hongjoong finally says. “We wanted to ensure you weren’t in any danger from either Nightcrawlers or the energy drain from our bonding.” You nod. “Speaking of, how are you feeling?”

Pondering a moment, you decide that you feel surprisingly good, better than you have in a while. Voicing your thoughts to the men, you say, “I actually feel great. I feel fresh, almost new again. Why do you ask?”

“That’s usually what happens, but I was worried it might affect you negatively since the bonding process is essentially a magic trade; people who get bonded swap energies. So, your energy split into nine parts - one for each of us, plus the part you keep, while you received 8 new forms of energy. Such a big trade doesn’t normally affect an advanced Spellcaster, such as myself or Hongjoong, but for someone who has just begun to tap into their potential, like you, it can put you down for a while.” You look at your hands and spy the tiny scab on your thumb, remembering the surge of magic you felt in the Ateez boys and within yourself. You remember the barely visible tendrils of magic reaching out to each member and look back up at the two in front of you.

“You didn’t think to warn me first? I have a job and school to attend, you know.” Your voice comes out unamused, but the small smile playing on your lips shows them you aren’t really upset. “So, anyway, now that we’re bonded. . .what do we do?”

“Well, first we go back to our café and then we start on your training.” Standing up, Hongjoong moves towards your room and you follow, Seonghwa behind you.

Approaching the door that had been enchanted last night, Hongjoong tugs it open. Swirling white light now exists where before there had only been wooden walls and dust. He grins at your amazed face and steps into it, disappearing. Seonghwa gestures for you to go next, so you do.

Inhaling deep, your foot crosses the threshold and then your leg, your arm, your head. The sensation is strange, reminiscent of walking through webs, only much more pleasant. Before you can process it fully, you’re standing in the upper room of Wonderland Café. You blink a few times and look around, ensuring that you really are there. Hongjoong stands beside the small sofa, which is being occupied by a smiling Mingi.

You startle as Seonghwa appears beside you, seemingly out of nowhere, which isn’t entirely incorrect. You turn and watch as he closes a door in the wall behind you two that you hadn’t noticed until now.

Looking over it, you find a strange lock above the doorknob. It’s large and round with various color sections – yellow, baby blue, orange, black, purple, navy blue, green, red, and white. You also notice a small diamond in the top-middle of the ring surrounding the colors.

Seonghwa, ever observant, points at the lock and begins to explain. “Each color represents a member and is linked to our individual dwellings. When we want to go home, we twist the knob so that our color aligns with this diamond, here. When Joong linked your house here, another section was added. Yours is white.”

“That’s really cool! I don’t have to walk so far in the mornings to get to school now!” Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at you, “Or waste any time getting here. . .?” You smile sheepishly and he shakes his head, a lopsided smile graces his features. A snort sounds behind you at the exchange and you spot Wooyoung coming up the stairs.

“You go to school? Just quit. You don’t need a common job now that you’re one of us!” Jongho, who is right behind him, smacks his head. Wooyoung whines while Jongho tells him to “shut up” and to “keep your dumb ideas to yourself” before joining Mingi on the sofa.

Hours later, not only does your butt hurt from the hard chair beneath you, but your brain also hurts from all the information Seonghwa is trying to feed you. Trying to process the fact that what you know of the government isn’t entirely true is more difficult than you’d like to admit. And not only that but trying to remember all the types of Spellcasters there are is increasingly difficult. You’re trying your best, truly, but it’s also quite apparent that Seonghwa is starting to get fed up with having to repeat himself.

“It’s really not that hard to understand, Y/N.” An exasperated sigh leaves Seonghwa’s lips as he run a hand through his hair. “Every Spellcaster is trained in the basics of the four elemental magics. After their first few years of training they take specialization exams to see if they hold any skill beyond the elements. There are ten different specialty areas – Healers, Clear-seers, Clairvoyants, Necromancers, Summoners, Mind Mages, Book-casters, Seekers, Tracers, and the rarest, Imperiums. Sometimes, there are Spellcasters with overlapping specialties, other times, they have none.

“If they don’t become a Specialist, they become either an Elemental-caster or an Orbital and from there a person usually either specializes in offensive magic or defensive magic.” He’s talking so fast from having to repeat this information for the third time so you can write it down, that you honestly are following even worse than before.

“Then, depending on the types of magic a Spellcaster uses, they are categorized into Light-caster or Shadow-caster.” He pauses a moment and feeling his stare on you, you look up, meeting his eyes. He speaks slower this time. “It is very important that you remember there is no ‘light’ or ‘dark’ magic, no ‘good’ or ‘bad’, just those who are tainted and use it for what they want. Magic is inherently innocent even when used by those will ill intentions and by being such, the magic within the tainted will wither and die unless constantly replenished by stealing the magic from others.”

This new information is shocking, “You can steal people’s magic?”

The room seems much quieter as he nods solemnly, “There are ways, yes. The most common is when Summoners use Nightcrawlers to. . .” he trails off as if he’s just realized something. You blink at him. “I think that’s enough for today. You should go find Jongho to work on controlling your magic for now. I need to find Joong and Yeosang.” Your lesson ends abruptly as Seonghwa gets up, walking fast towards the stairway.

You’re left sitting in silence wondering what had just been realized by your mentor before realizing you have no idea where Jongho is. Grumbling to yourself, you slump in your chair. The last you’d seen the other man, he left at least an hour ago with Mingi down the stairs. Standing up, you bend and stretch, cracking your back and neck as you leisurely stroll down the stairs as well.

Arriving at the bottom, you see the café is relatively busy. San, Wooyoung, and Yunho are running around waiting on the tables full of teenagers and young adults. You snicker at the small crowd of swooning girls at a corner table before turning to the counter. Yeosang is taking another woman’s order when he looks up at you approaching.

“Uhh. . . Have you seen Jongho? I’m supposed to train with him?” It comes out more as a question, really. He arches an eyebrow before moving to lift a segment of the counter allowing you to move to the employee’s side. You ignore the may eyes on your back.

“Turn right and go straight down the hall. You’ll find him behind the door at the end.” You peer down the hall and glance back to tell him thanks, but he’s already with another customer. Sighing to yourself, you mosey your way to the end of the hall and sure enough, there’s a door right in front of you.

You notice that much like the door upstairs, this one too, has a strange lock on it. However, unlike the one upstairs, it has abbreviations instead of colors. You mumble to yourself, “PoM. . .SoM. . .TR. . ? Well it’s on TR, whatever that is. . . and assuming Jongho was the last person to go through this, all I have to do is open it and go through as well, right?”

Twisting the knob, you hear the lock click and push the door open. Almost immediately, you are consumed by the same shimmering white light as this morning.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys enjoy this please like or comment, it gives me motivation knowing people are actually reading and liking my work. Thank you!


End file.
